Herbs don't heal all wounds
by Cherished Words
Summary: The scars unseen hurt the most.


Herbs don't heal all wounds.

Cinderpaw just wanted to prove her worth to Fireheart, her mentor. A cruel trap of fate led to a mangled leg, unable to withstand her weight. It crumpled on the floor as she limped towards her destination.

All she ever wanted to do was please. She's seen the looks Fireheart gave to her the first moon she got injured. All her youthful vigor, energy swept away in a flash of pain, monsters, and betrayals.

Before then, her youthful strength and cheerfulness only wanted to do one thing: make Fireheart proud. Cinderpaw knew that the tom took pride in her, until the fateful day. She's seen how his chest puffs up at the sight of her growth in apprenticeship.

The day she got hit, he would always be by Cinderpaw's side. She winced every time she stood up to sneak a glance at her mentor. Despite the pain, she always felt comforted by Fireheart's side. Eventually, she could hobble through the camp, but Cinderpaw always felt Fireheart's regretful gaze staring at her.

Cinderpaw remembers the days where she frolicked through the crackly leaves of leaf-fall, chasing after Fireheart. In every memory she recalled, Cinderpaw felt like she couldn't breathe, and a fluttering rose up in her stomach.

_Is it a bellyache? Or the beginning of whitecough?_

She was puzzled by these feelings, never noticing the deep bond rising up with her and Fireheart. Maybe if she found some herbs to remedy these problems…

In the span of one moon, she had tried catmint, fern leaves, ginger, and even poppy seeds. But as time passed, it seemed like her symptoms strengthened.

She was desperate to find out what was wrong with her. Cinderpaw even consulted Yellowfang. She held a far-off expression, and said to her, "You will know. All in due time…" Cinderpaw was deeply confused, but let it slide. Afterwords, she recalled Yellowfang yelling at her to go get some dewdrop leaves.

Then Cinderpaw was no more. Up arose a new cat, as Cinderpelt. The day she lost Yellowfang, she had never felt so alone. Cinderpaw would always look at Fireheart.

She would talk to him, catch up on warrior news, and sometimes chat idly. It was a moment's sanctuary from the dull pain that grieved her every day. Her feelings on the exterior contrasted her loneliness in the inside. She displayed carefulness, cunning, and sympathy. Cinderpelt would even try to act cheerful that fooled everybody but herself.

One day, she woke herself to a sudden jolt. Cinderpelt felt like something was off. She looked over and around the camp, but nothing seemed different. She took a last look at Fireheart. The medicine cat was shocked to see him twining his tail around with Sandstorm's.

Cinderpelt's body was filled with unknown hatred. Although she consoled Fireheart of Sandstorm, she still felt this burning hate. _Where is all this anger coming from? _

She sprinted as fast as she could with her twisted leg towards the medicine cat. For the first time in moons, she just wanted to be alone. She felt betrayal, anger, jealousy…and love? No, that is absurd. Cinderpelt's a medicine cat. It's forbidden and taboo.

Her eyes rose up in realization. Yellowfang's words seem to echo throughout her head. Of course! What she truly felt was love. Cinderpelt narrowed her eyes at the couple from the entrance of her den. _Do I deserve this? A leg beyond repair, and an impossible love which was prohibited by all._

She cried to herself quietly, muffling her sobs with some moss. She felt invisible claws rake against her body, leaving immaterial scars in her soul. Cinderpelt's heart felt wrenched out. She felt like a warrior being ripped apart by dogs. _Do you even care?_

She gulped down a poppy seed to soothe herself down. When she was finally calm enough, Cinderpelt understood her once naivety. _Filling the void with medicine cat isolation._

She remembered one time, where she was unable to save a cat dying from pain. She desperately searched for the right herbs, but none seemed to help the dying warrior. Now, her memories felt scarred and painful. It taught her one thing.

Herbs don't heal all wounds.


End file.
